Sponsorship Stigma
Chapter 11
The Uninvited Guest
Yeonjae tapped the spent coffee grounds out of the portafilter.
Even as she wiped the filter clean and locked it back into the espresso machine, her eyes kept drifting toward the phone beside her.
The phone, which had rung persistently until this morning, remained quiet now.
Two calls had come in—one late last night, and another early in the morning.
Though the number was unsaved, Yeonjae knew exactly who it belonged to.
It was a sequence of digits that still lingered in her memory, even after five years.
Old memories naturally surfaced over that number, bringing a wave of distress before anything else.
She hated feeling lingering attachments.
So she deliberately ignored the calls and sent a message of rejection instead.
[We have no intention of signing a contract with the Guil Foundation. Therefore, I have discarded the contract you sent.]
And since she truly had shredded the papers on the spot, it was the most honest answer she could offer.
He must have read the message, as no further calls came through.
Yeonjae reached out and picked up her phone.
She checked to see if a reply had arrived, but there were no new messages.
“…Has he given up now?”
“Hm? Did you say something?”
“Oh, nothing, Manager. I was just talking to myself.”
Yeonjae offered an awkward smile to the manager, who had walked over unnoticed.
At the same time, she put down the phone she had been fidgeting with.
He was a man who had likely never faced rejection in his life, so his pride might have been bruised.
Thinking that this connection was finally over, Yeonjae pressed the button to pull the shot.
Watching the espresso split evenly into two cups, Yeonjae glanced around.
The interior of the cafe, with its eight or so tables, came into view. Counting the terrace seating, it was a fairly sizeable place.
It was the cafe where Yeonjae worked her morning part-time shift.
She worked here until late lunch, and in the afternoon, she taught lessons at a piano academy.
Except for an hour-long break in between, Yeonjae’s daily schedule was packed to the brim with work.
She was barely scraping by as it was.
Reassuring herself that she had no room in her life to dwell on Jeheon, Yeonjae poured the espresso shots over ice.
She slid a cup sleeve onto the completed iced Americano and set it on the pickup counter.
Then, checking the order slip, she began preparing the remaining drinks in sequence.
“Yeonjae-ssi, look at that guy out there. He’s ridiculously handsome. He looks like a celebrity.”
“Really?”
Yeonjae replied absently, keeping her eyes glued to the drinks.
She was never great at multitasking to begin with, and her head had been a mess since morning.
“I’ve never seen that face around here before. Is he a rookie actor? Look, check him out.”
At the manager’s persistent urging and light tap on her shoulder, Yeonjae slowly lifted her head.
Her gaze landed on the man standing outside the cafe window.
A tall man, easily over six feet, stood with his back turned to the cafe.
He certainly didn't have the proportions of an average person.
He stood out like a model, but her interest faded almost instantly.
Perhaps because she had met Jeheon, other men hadn't caught her eye in a very long time.
Having lost interest, Yeonjae turned her attention back to the drinks.
“You should’ve looked a second earlier. He just turned around. His face is incredible.”
“Is it? But why would a celebrity be around here?”
It wasn't even Seoul, and it was a weekday morning.
“True. No cameras, either. Ah, well. A guy like that must have a girlfriend, right?”
Listening quietly, the corners of Yeonjae’s lips curved into a faint smile.
The manager had recently broken up with a long-term boyfriend and was looking for someone new.
She often said that even when she felt fine, thoughts of her ex would suddenly pop up, and that she needed a passionate romance again.
Yeonjae understood that feeling all too well.
Though, because her own past love had been so overwhelmingly intense and fierce, she wondered if such love was ever possible again.
“If you’re curious, go ahead and ask him.”
“Should I? Oh, he’s coming in.”
The dreamcatcher hanging on the door swayed gently, letting out a crisp, refreshing chime.
As if he really had stepped inside, the man’s footsteps drew steadily closer.
“What can I get for you? Is this your first time visiting our shop?”
“…….”
“We roast our own beans, so our selection changes daily. Would you like a recommendation?”
Behind her, the manager’s welcoming voice rang out, pitched noticeably higher than usual.
Yeonjae stifled a laugh as she finished pouring the blended smoothie into a cup.
“Sounds good.”
The moment that voice brushed against her ears, Yeonjae’s hands froze over the cup.
It was just two words, yet her heart dropped clean through the floor.
“I’ll take a recommendation from that employee over there.”
“Pardon?”
Bewilderment laced the manager’s voice.
Even though the blender pitcher was completely empty, Yeonjae’s hands remained frozen in midair.
She didn't need to turn around to picture the face behind that voice.
There was no doubt, no room for disbelief.
Because in this entire world, there was only one person whose voice alone could make her heart race like this.
“Jung Yeonjae.”
Yeonjae gripped the handle of the blender pitcher tightly.
“Give me a recommendation.”
She stood rooted to the spot, entirely paralyzed.
The manager quickly sidled up beside her and whispered in a voice meant only for Yeonjae.
“What’s this? You two know each other?”
“That’s… I’ll tell you later.”
Reading the rampant curiosity in the manager’s eyes, Yeonjae let out a faint sigh.
Their history was far too deep to explain with Jeheon standing right in front of them.
Yeonjae set the blender pitcher down in the sink.
Turning around, the scene gradually filled her vision.
Her gaze slid past the manager and landed squarely on the other side of the counter.
The moment she saw Jeheon dressed in a suit, a hollow, dry laugh formed on her lips.
In the two years she had worked at this cafe, not a single commuter had ever worn a full suit.
Much less someone dressed with such sharp, immaculate precision.
Why hadn't she realized it was him?
Swallowing back the sigh that kept trying to escape, Yeonjae parted her lips.
“Please get a recommendation from the manager. As you can see, I’m in the middle of preparing orders.”
She held up the plastic cup in front of her to show Jeheon.
It held the freshly made smoothie.
“I’ll finish that up! Yeonjae-ssi, go take his order.”
The manager snatched the plastic cup from Yeonjae’s hands and lightly pushed her back.
“Go on. The orders will back up at this rate. It’s almost lunchtime.”
Yeonjae glanced at the wall clock. It showed ten minutes before noon.
Located in the city center surrounded by office buildings, the cafe was always packed during morning rush hour and lunch breaks.
That was precisely why Yeonjae had been hired in the first place.
Jeheon gestured toward the register with a slight lift of his chin.
Seeing that the man had no intention of backing down, Yeonjae reluctantly took a step forward.
“May I take your order?”
Standing behind the counter, Yeonjae asked in a flat, dry tone.
“What about the recommendation?”
“I can’t give one. Please choose for yourself.”
“Excuse me, boss. It seems your employee is neglecting her duties.”
Yeonjae’s expression stiffened visibly as her fingers hovered over the POS screen.
“Yeonjae-ssi, what’s the matter?”
The manager, who had been washing dishes in the back, stepped over with an awkward, troubled expression.
Because Yeonjae had never once acted discourteous toward a customer, the manager seemed utterly flustered.
Yeonjae shifted her gaze to the bean hoppers beside the grinder.
“We only have beans like Yirgacheffe and Kenya right now.”
Jeheon never drank coffee if it had even the slightest hint of acidity.
‘Real quality coffee is supposed to have acidity. This has lovely fruity notes. Why don’t you just take a sip…?’
‘No thanks. Drink it yourself.’
He was a man who used to reject her suggestions without a second thought.
Because of that, the beans she used to stock at the Residence were always a special roast with a heavy, rich body.
Even though she personally loved bright, acidic coffee, she had always tailored it to his tastes.
As those memories crept back into her mind, a bitter pang struck Yeonjae’s chest.
She wished she could just forget all of this.
“Since you don't like sour—”
Catching herself instinctively catering to his preferences, Yeonjae clamped her mouth shut.
Jeheon was looking at her with an unreadable, subtle glint in his eyes.
“Ha… Never mind. An iced Americano will do, right?”
And why on earth are you worrying about that, Jung Yeonjae?
Yeonjae punched in a random menu item on the screen. Then, without any hesitation, she turned her back on him.
* * *
“I’ve run this cafe here for seven years, and I swear, I’ve never seen our beans completely sell out before.”
At the manager’s half-awed, half-groaning remark, Yeonjae paused.
Turning her head, she saw the manager leaning against the counter, staring outside.
With her chin propped in her hand, the manager’s gaze was fixed entirely on Jeheon.
He was sitting at a sunlit terrace table, casually scrolling through his phone.
Even though all the ice in his cup had melted, the level of coffee hadn't dropped by a single drop.
“Yeonjae-ssi, your ex-boyfriend is seriously intense.”
“Manager!”
Startled that he might overhear despite sitting on the terrace, Yeonjae hastily hushed her.
“You’ll keep this a secret, right?”
“I know, I know. I’m not clueless.”
Yeonjae had once mentioned Jeheon to the manager in passing.
She hadn't told her that he was Jiwoo’s father, but had she known he would show up like this, she wouldn't have said a word at all.
She knew the manager wasn't the type to gossip lightly.
Still, it was hard to shake off the anxiety sprouting in a corner of her heart.
On top of that, as her clock-out time drew nearer, an urgent restlessness began to swell inside her.
“Now that the delivery order is dispatched, you should head out, Yeonjae-ssi.”
The manager stepped closer and said,
“Business is done for the day. Once the remaining customers leave, I’m going to close up and roast some more beans. So go home early.”
Today’s revenue was easily more than double the usual.
And at the center of that windfall was Jeheon.
It seemed that waiting around had become too bothersome for him, so he had simply bought out every last batch of beans remaining in the store.
Recognizing the ulterior motive behind it, Yeonjae’s face darkened with a shadow of dread.
Her clocking out early was precisely what that man wanted.
“It’s fine. I can stay and help you roast—”
“Nope. Clock out.”
Even though there was still an hour left before her shift ended, the manager took Yeonjae’s apron away.
She even fetched her bag and thrust it into her arms.
“Look at him staging a protest out there. Besides, you’re distracted anyway, aren't you?”
Earlier, when Yeonjae had brought the drink out to the terrace, Jeheon had asked to talk for a moment, and she had cut him off with a flat refusal.
She had no idea that refusal would lead to him buying out their entire stock of coffee beans.
Just as the manager said, it was practically a protest.
“Ugh, he’s looking over here again. Hurry up and go.”
Even though Yeonjae’s hands had been moving busily, her entire focus had been pulled toward the terrace. Having worked together for two years, the manager had clearly noticed.
Before she could even protest, Yeonjae was ushered out the cafe door.
A rush of outside air filled her lungs as she drew a breath. Steadying herself, Yeonjae went to lift her head.
“You have time now, right?”
Accompanied by the scrape of a chair across the floor, a familiar voice wrapped around her ears.
“Get in. We need to talk.”
Yeonjae lifted her gaze, and Jeheon filled her vision.
Having stood up before she realized it, he gestured with a calm, indifferent look toward the car parked behind him.
